Protecting the Young Heroes(mostly)
by Sealure
Summary: Nobody knows her name. Very few even know she exists. I don't know if she ever came to school, if she was ever Prefect or Head Girl. I don't even know her name. Nobody does. But I do know some of the precious few people who have seen her. Their stories I have been given permission to tell.
1. Nobody Knows Her Name

**So, here we go with another one of my random AUs. This one is Harry Potter, obviously.**

 **The gist of it is there's a ghost. She's kinda like Helena Ravenclaw-you don't find her, she finds you. She does her best to help everyone she can.**

 **SPOILERS: None for this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights to JK Rowling.**

 **And here we go again!**

 _Protecting the Young Heroes (mostly)_

Nobody knows her name. Very few even know she exists. She doesn't speak. She doesn't need to. Somehow, you always know exactly what she means.

Most who've seen her say it's her eyes. They say they're _beautiful._ Her face is too, of course. But for some reason, no one can ever remember exactly what she looks like. ( _The ones who truly understand her think that maybe that's the way she prefers it)_ But none of them ever forget her eyes. They are said to be as pure and green as a mountain lake. Others say they're the blue-grey of the storming sea and the weeping sky. Still others insist they're the same rich color as the earth. _(The ones who truly understand her roll their own eyes and say they change with her emotions._ _ **Obviously.**_ _)_

They all say her eyes are full of light and compassion. Laughter and a (slightly alarming) amount of mischief. They say that love flows freely for all, even for those who appear to be hated by all. _(Those who truly understand her say it's because she knows how it feels)_

But make no mistake. She is not weak. She is kind and understanding, yes, but she is _fierce._ Her anger is not to be dismissed. She is cunningly intelligent, and while forgiving and loyal to a fault, she does not trust a second time.

She has been here for longer than anyone can remember. Even some of the professors don't know about her. Most of the students don't, either. And for some reason, those who do never talk about her. No, never. Except, that is, to each other. Don't ask me how they can tell; they just _can._ It's a _feeling_ they get when they're close to someone else who's seen her.

The first person to see her was her mother, I suppose. But I don't know who her mother was. Or her father. Or her brother or sister. (if, indeed, she had any at all)

I don't know when she came to school, if she was ever Prefect or Head Girl. I don't even know her name.

Nobody does.

But I do know some of the precious few people who _have_ seen her. Their stories I have been given permission to tell.

 **And there's that. Ok, I have three more chapters written for this. I'll try to get one up a day, and if you guys like it, I'll write more.**

 **Reviews are love!**


	2. A Promise Given(a promise kept)

**WARNINGS: Character death**

 **SPOILERS: Half-Blood Prince.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 _A Promise Given, A Promise Kept_

The first person to see her that you would know was a boy who went by the name Albus Dumbledore. Now, Albus was a good student, a great friend, and a _marvelous_ Head Boy. But even the best feel overwhelmed sometimes.

So, there he was. A sixth year, Head Boy, model student, sitting on the floor of an empty corridor staring at nothing and feeling like the expectations and requirements were going to crush him. He also felt…..well, rather alone. You see, Albus had some great friends. However, none of those friends could quite understand the pressure he was under. Add that to fact that he had to be a good example, keep going strong, and you've got one pretty miserable student.

But as he sat there, alone and miserable as could be, a pair of feet walked into view.

"Go away _,_ Nicholas," he muttered, glaring at the floor. "I toldyou, I just want to—"

Laughter cut him off. A warm, infectious laugh. He looked up and came face to face with a beautiful girl he'd never seen before. Her brilliant green eyes, framed by long, dark curls, were dancing with light. A moment later he realized she was a ghost. But she seemed much more real, more solid that the other ghosts he'd met.

"W-w-who are you?" he asked.

She canted her head to one side. _No one of consequence._

He blinked. She hadn't spoken, out loud or in his mind. He'd just understood her? He shrugged. Stranger things had happened.

 _Why are you sitting on the floor?_ She furrowed her brow.

Albus grunted. "Because I felt like it."

Her lips quirked in a wry smile. _Ah. A very logical reason to be sitting on the floor in an empty hallway whilst the Christmas feast occurs four floors below?_

He glared at her. "What do you know? You're insubstantial!"

Her eyes flashed. _Insubstantial, eh?_ She slapped him. It stung quite a bit.

"What was that for?!" he demanded, one hand on his aching cheek.

 _I am_ _ **every bit**_ _as substantial and real as you, Albus Dumbledore!_ Her eyes gentled. _As are many in this school who are often overlooked and ignored._ She looked at him knowingly. He flushed with embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry, I—hang on a minute. How do you know my name?"

The light in her eyes turned decidedly mischievous. _I know lots of things. For example, are you ever going to tell Minerva how much you like her?_

He turned redder than the emblem on his robes. "T-T-That's none of your business!"

She laughed. _True._

She slid down the wall and sat beside him, then tilted her head to one side. _Why are you really sitting up here all alone?_

Albus looked down. "No one understands."

One corner of her mouth tilted up. _Try me._

So he did. He poured out all his fears and insecurities: failing, leading his fellow students astray, not being good enough. She never said a word, only listened.

"….and I just feel so overwhelmed." He choked out.

She reached over and grabbed his hand. Not in a flirty way, more like an I've-got-your-back kind of way.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "What, no words of wisdom for the younger generation?"

She snorted. _Would you listen if I did?_

He had to smile, if only a little bit. "Probably not."

Her smirk faded into a gentle, yet strong smile. _You are meant for incredible things, Albus Dumbledore. You feel alone, like no one understands, because you have not told anyone how you feel. How are they supposed to understand if they don't know? And how are they supposed to know if you don't tell them?_

He looked down. Gentle, warm fingers lifted his head until he met fierce green eyes.

 _Remember this: Two is better than one. Three is better than two. Any number is better, when there's more than only you. You are strong. You are smart and you are talented. But you tend to surround yourself only with other students who are very similar to you._

Albus frowned. "Should I not?"

She tilted her hand back and forth. _Some. But remember,_ and here her eyes grew serious, _there is bravery in every House, not only Gryffindor. There is loyalty in every House, not only Hufflepuff. There is intelligence in every House, not only Ravenclaw. And there is ambition in every House, not only Slytherin. Understand?_

He thought hard for a moment. "But don't individual people have all those traits, too?"

Her eyes lit up, and he knew he'd answered correctly.

 _Exactly!_ Her smile made the entire corridor feel warmer. _The weakest witch or wizard in the whole school could prove to be the most faithful and valued friend you will ever have._

He smiled now, a real smile. "I get it now. Even if I did have to have it slapped into me!"

She giggled and stood up. He stood as well, and looked her in the eye, growing serious once more,

"Thank you," he said. "Really, truly thank you."

Her face looked joyful and sorrowful, her smile bright and broken, her beautiful eyes timeless and ancient. She reached out and gripped his shoulders.

 _Don't forget them, alright?_

"I won't. I promise." He looked at her solemnly. "Will I ever see you again?"

Her visage changed in a heartbeat to pure mischief. _Maybe, maybe not. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?_

" **ALBUS!"**

" **ALBUS, WHERE ARE YOU?"**

He glanced towards the voices of his friends, then turned back to see nothing but an empty corridor.

He smiled. Then he turned, and walked towards the light, laughter, and love that waited for him at the other end of the hall.

 _(Many years later, Albus Dumbledore would be standing on the astronomy tower. As a wand is raised and magic begins to gather, his gaze is drawn to the far wall. And time stands still. There she stands, that dark haired, green eyed girl he'd met all those years ago. Except this time, her eyes are the color of the weeping sky. He meets her eyes, and his sparkle with the kindness and strength that have helped so many._

 _ **I kept my promise.**_

 _Her smile is so proud, and so broken._

 _ **I know.**_ _Those beautiful eyes fill with tears._ _ **Thank you.**_

 _One corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. Then two words are spoken, a flash of green light, and she bows her head. She sinks to her knees and weeps, to honor and mourn one of the greatest men she's ever known.)_

 **Voila! I love doing little AUs like this. You know they didn't happen, but at the same time, they're in the little in-between parts that nobody really knows about, so they could have happened.**

 **Anyway, hope you liked it, enjoy, review!**


	3. The Boy Who Could Have(done so much)

**This one's really short. Sorry about that. There just weren't a lot of places I could go with this one. I also made myself cry, which is a new one. Anyway, here you go.**

 **WARNINGS: Character death.**

 **SPOILERS: Harry Potter in general, but mostly Deathly Hallows.**

 _The Boy Who Could Have_

The second name is a little less liked and a little more feared: Tom Marvelo Riddle.

Tom was a rather unsocial boy. He wasn't very good at following rules, either. So it really wasn't much of a surprise when she found him wandering the hallways at some ungodly hour of the morning. She pursed her lips as she watched him, debating on whether or not she should reveal herself to him.

This boy worried her. He did not run and play and laugh as the others did. He barely even smiled. Tom preferred to sit alone and study. He was a powerful wizard, that much was obvious. Less obvious were the shadows in his eyes. His affinity for dark magics was concerning to say the least.

Oh, yes, she'd noticed. She does not often show herself, and when she does, it is only to those who truly need it. Her heart and her mind were in complete agreement on this one. Tom Riddle needed help before he slid too far.

Her decision made, she stepped out in front of him - only for him to walk right through her. Her eyes widened in shock.

Tom stopped and turned around, rubbing his arms as though he'd got a chill. She locked her eyes on his face, but his gaze roved straight past her. On not seeing anything, he turns and continued down the hall.

She smiled after him, a mirthless, _desperately_ sorrowful smile, as felt her heart breaking, realizing he was already too far gone.

 _(Many years later, the Dark Lord Voldemort would be standing in the courtyard of Hogwarts, slowly dissolving after his battle with Harry Potter. Standing unnoticed in the shadows and the ruins, a young girl with grey eyes allows a single tear to slip down her face, mourning the Boy Who Could Have done so much.)_

 **Um...Sorry? *hides under bed and holds out box of tissues as a truce* I swear the next chapter is happier!**

 **Reviews are love!**

 **And before I forget (again) I only have one more chapter written for this. Who do you guys think I should do? Right now, the idea list includes: Fred and George, Draco, Dobby, Sirius, and Remus. That's not the order in which I'll write them, that's just all the ideas I have right now. If you have a specific character you want me to do, drop a review or a PM with the character's name and a general idea of what you want to happen and I'll see what I can do! Thanks!**


	4. Of Acorns and Classic Slytherins

**Chapter Three! This is my longest story yet!**

 **WARNINGS:None for this chapter**

 **SPOILERS: Deathly Hallows**

 **Enjoy!**

Of Acorns and Classic Slytherins

Narcissa Black was a classic Slytherin. Beautiful, proud, cunning, ambitious, and pure-blooded, she was the sterling example for all Slytherin ladies. However, she also hid her true feelings way down deep inside. Yes, indeed, a classic Snake.

She tended to use any free time she had in one of two places: the library, or outside. This particular evening found her wandering the beautiful grounds with a lot on her mind. She and Lucius were seventh years. Almost done.

Tom (now Voldemort) was beginning to gather allies—and power. Lucius had already pledged his loyalty. Narcissa, on the other hand…..

As a pure blood and a Snake, she had of _course_ seen and heard the taunts and cruel jokes heaped upon her House by the others. She had also been witness to the return of each sentiment to its sender by her Housemates. It had not escaped her notice that Slytherin returned every grievance (real or imagined) with twice the malice, twice the cruelty.

And Narcissa Black wanted no part of that.

But Lucius….. She was fully aware that Lucius had pledged his loyalty only because they had threatened her. She glared at the ground and viciously kicked a rock.

 _What did the rock ever do to you?_

She spun around, startled. There was no one there. "Where are you?" she called firmly, reaching for her wand.

A bright laugh answered her, and an acorn hit her on the shoulder. _Up here!_

Narcissa looked up. There, perched easily in the massive branches of the regal oak tree, was a girl she'd never seen before.

 _It's a funny thing._ The girl tilted her head. _Why doesn't anyone ever look up?_

Narcissa blinked, nonplussed. "Um….I….don't know?"

The girl grinned. _Me either!_

Narcissa frowned. "You hit me with an acorn."

The girl gave her an innocent look she didn't buy for one second. _Who, me?_ Even from thirty feet up, her eyes sparkled with pure mischief.

Narcissa felt a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth in spite of herself. "Yes, you. Unless the tree decided it was weary of my presence."

The girl's eyebrows shot up, a surprised laugh spiraling out of her. _Well, trees are very sensitive creatures, you know._

Narcissa laughed. "Really?"

 _Uh-huh._ The girl dropped from branch to branch (with such a fluid grace, it was almost as though she were dancing) until she stood before Narcissa. Her sparkling green eyes abruptly grew serious. _They just hide their feelings and thoughts way down deep inside._

Narcissa felt her smile fade. The girl— _'I ought to ask her name'_ —was looking at her with a strange mix of understanding and daring. And all of a sudden, Narcissa felt the urge to _tell_ someone, to _trust_ someone, get this _weight_ of fear and worry off her chest.

She eyes the girl, searching for any sign of untrustworthiness; she found nothing but compassion.

"Maybe those feelings and thoughts should stay there, hidden away." She said quietly. "The bark and wood keep them safe."

The girl smiled sadly. _They also keep them from growing. They stay locked away until they are forgotten._

Narcissa swallowed hard, fully aware they were no longer talking about the trees. "Maybe…" her voice hitched. "Maybe the trees are afraid."

 _Of what?_ The girl's eyes grew impossibly gentler.

"Of being hurt," Narcissa looked at the ground. "Of making the wrong choice."

 _Ah._ The girl— _'I really ought to ask her name'_ —leaned down and picked up the acorn she'd thrown earlier.

 _If I planted this, would it grow?_ She asked, looking up at Narcissa with eyes as dark as the soil beneath their feet.

Narcissa stared at her, confused by the abrupt and completely random change of subject. "Um….it….I….yes?"

 _But what if it doesn't want to_?

"It's an _acorn_."

 _Yes, and you're a human. Stating the obvious now, are we? Very well. The sky is blue. This tree is tall. We are standing on planet Earth. And you are stalling._

Narcissa huffed. "What do mean, 'what if it doesn't want to'? That's its job! It's expected to grow!"

 _So it is._ The girl nodded once, as though she'd proved an important point. _It's_ _expected_ _to grow. But what if it doesn't want to? What if the conditions aren't right? What if the choice everyone is trying to force it to make isn't what the acorn wants?_

Narcissa found herself all but speechless for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes, her mouth suddenly dry. "You're not talking about the acorn anymore, are you?"

The girl— _'I_ _really_ _must ask her name'_ —only smiled sadly. _There will come a time when the risk it takes to stay tight in a bud will be greater than the risk it takes to bloom. However, if the time is not right, the acorn will wait until it is._

Narcissa's breath caught, hope beginning to burn in her chest. _'Is she saying what I think she's saying?'_

The girl reached out and took her hands, her eyes a striking blue-grey. _It gets dark when you're waiting. So very dark, and so very cold. And more alone than you've ever been in your life._ Her grip tightened then, her eyes brimming with hope. _But when it_ _is_ _your time…_

She let go of Narcissa's hands and danced back, whirling around and throwing out her arms. _Look what you can become!_

Narcissa looked up. The massive, regal oak was tall and strong and absolutely _beautiful._ It had withstood the dark and cold of waiting, then the winds and storms when it grew. But it had grown anyway. The risk had been worth it. She tore her eyes from the awe-inspiring sight, not realizing she was weeping until she noticed how blurry the tree was getting. She let the tears run down her face, unashamed.

The girl was watching her with laughing, dancing eyes, and a simply beautiful smile. Narcissa smiled back, then leaned down and picked up an acorn. Tossing it in one hand, she casually remarked, "You know, just because it's expected doesn't mean you have to do it the exactly the way they expect."

 _Oh?_ She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. After all, the acorn is the one that chooses whether or not to take the risk."

 _So it is._ The girl tilted her head, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. _So it is….. Well done._

"Cissa?" Lucius' voice sounded behind her.

Narcissa half-turned, surprised. "Lucius! I didn't hear you come up."

He smiled at her gently, stepping forward and winding his arms around her waist. "What are you doing out here?"

She leaned against him, turning back to introduce him to the girl who—she blinked. Who was no longer there. She glanced around quickly, but there was no sign of her. But on the ground where the girl had been standing was a small oak sapling, reaching bravely for the light.

She smiled.

"Just looking at the trees," she answered.

Lucius let out a long breath and rested his chin on her shoulder. "They are rather impressive. I mean, it can't be easy, being buried and having to fight their way to the light and all that."

Narcissa's eyes widened. Then a slow, full, joyful spread across her beautiful face.

On the breeze, a wild and free voice laughed with delight.

( _Many years later, Narcissa Malfoy would step forward to check whether or not Harry Potter had been killed by the Dark Lord. She kneels by his side, feeling for a pulse. She finds one. As she leans forward in disbelief, something jabs into her knee. Wincing, she looks down, then freezes._

 _It is an acorn._

 _Half-forgotten words dance across her mind:_

 _ **There will come a time when the risk it takes to stay tight in a bud will be greater than the risk it takes to bloom….**_

 _ **But when it**_ _ **is**_ _ **your time….**_

" _ **After all, the acorn is the one that decides whether or not to take the risk…."**_

 _Narcissa takes a deep breath. And blooms._

 _Several hours later, Narcissa pulls her family from the darkness for good. As she leads them across the bridge, something hits her on the shoulder. She looks down. It is an acorn. Narcissa looks around._

 _And there she is. Half-hidden behind one of the ruined columns, green eyes locked on Narcissa's blue. That joyful, proud, simply beautiful smile lights up her face._

 _ **Well done…..**_ _The words whisper by on the wind._

 _Narcissa smiles back and thinks the risk was worth it because they made it. They beat the dark and the cold and the alone and they're free now. Free to grow and fly and reach for the light. And when the girl disappears again, Narcissa realizes: 'I never did ask her name….'_

 _That wild, free laugh sings out again, one last time, and Narcissa thinks that maybe it doesn't matter. She'll never forget what that barefoot girl taught her._

 _So she holds her head high, and walks to the light.)_

 **Ha! Take that, you evil plot bunnies! I _can_ write fluffy happy stuff!**

 **See? I told you this one would have a happy ending!**

 **Reviews are love!**


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